


Tin Person and the Scarecrow, or Elsa Seeks her Anna

by fresne



Series: Voyages of the Bakerstreet [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek, Star Trek: The Animated Series, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alpha Euros, Alpha Mycroft, Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Consent issues that have nothing to do with sex, Implied sex on a holodeck, Implied trauma to a main character as a child, Omega John, Other, The only way Euros makes any sense to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 22:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15471306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fresne/pseuds/fresne
Summary: The Bakerstreet is sent on a high priority mission to make first contact with a living ship in orbit around a dying star before the Romulans get to it.However, as their first contact specialist, Tam Elbrun, triggers conflicted behavior, and the crew is less and less able to recognize reality, will the Bakerstreet survive?





	1. Tam Elbrun POV

A soft breeze whistled in the nodes of the greeting chamber. Almost the only motion.

The Chandrans were on day one of their ritual for hello, when Tam felt it. Distant. Ancient (sepia). Lonely (azure). Longing for the end that death brings (charcoal). He would have fallen, except that he was cradled in a long green Chandran frond.

He reached out with his mind. He couldn't help it.

He never could. He had no walls. An open wound.

A far distant answer. A greeting (new grass). So far away. It was a stretch. Even for someone with his abilities. But surrounded by the Chandrans at their slow measured pace, supported by their different way of seeing the universe, he reached out.

The Chandrans had moved on from greetings to the selection of loam for the summer's feast when he felt the call change to pure joy. Connection. Joining (red incarnadine blood.).

And a call.

It wasn't for him.

Tam wept.

Still, when Starfleet contacted him about what they'd discovered on a long range scanner, he went.


	2. John POV

Really, John should not have checked to see if the holodeck was free the night before. But he had to do something to ease the tension. He still felt a low level sense of guilt using his best friend's image in this way, but Sherlock had made very clear how he felt about his transport.

Very clear.

So clear.

He called his body transport for one.

Not that John hadn't checked a few weeks ago to see if perhaps Sherlock had changed his mind. Oh, getting together would be completely against the regulations against fraternization, but the Bakerstreet had to be the least regulation ship in the fleet. Someone had hung a flying pig in Transporter Room Cloud. The command chair had been replaced with a very comfortable couch. There was a bear skin rug in front of a fake fireplace in the ready room.

Distractions. Justifications.

Sherlock's scent. The way he looked. The way he moved. They were all driving John around the bend.

So once again he did the shameful walk of dragging his way into the morning briefing. Sat next to Sherlock and was rewarded with a brilliant smile that felt like the side stage fan that indicated an oncoming storm.

They were being diverted from their survey mission to rendezvous with the USS Hood to pick up several engineering techs, and a mission specialist, and then they were to head out top speed straight out of Federation space.

Smith's forehead wrinkled as she looked at the orders. "Why would we need to install low level holo emitters all over the ship?"

Hudson said primly, "Because given our success leveraging the holographic doctor, Starfleet is testing out a crew augmentation system on the Bakerstreet."

"What?" said John, who really needed to make life choices that involved getting more sleep. Mind, he was sore in ways that made up for it, but still. Sleep was theoretically important.

"Don't be an idiot, it's obvious," said Sherlock. John kicked him affectionately under the table.

"It's to replace crew in emergencies," said Donovan, heavy as a bag of sand. "Need a doctor, run up a Bashir or a McCoy. Need an engineer, call up a Scotty or three. Need more Security, run the Worf protocol. Never mind that Security personnel need to have instincts and not just programming. They think we're replaceable."

"Julian does a great job," said Hunter. She rubbed her shoulder. She and Julian had been playing tennis pretty frequently in the holodeck.

"We are not replacing Doctor Watson with more Holograms," said Sherlock firmly. So firm. So very, very, very... focus...

"No one is suggesting that they take away your… our doctor," said Hudson. John was about ready to give up on protesting the he wasn't a doctor just yet. Hudson glanced at Hunter. "And unlike Julian, there won't be any of the fancy bells and whistles that are in the holodeck or sickbay. An extra set of hands in an emergency and nothing more."

"I like the idea," said Hatherley. "If I can give the scut work to a hologram, that's more time for my engineers to do real engineering work." John was a mature adult and made eye contact with Hatherley. This was the first department briefing that he'd attended in months.

Smith snorted a sort of donkey bray of a laugh. "I don't know. Sounds like we're just asking for yet more of ship resources to be used for porn." She flushed as they looked at her. "What? I know I can't be the only one thinking it. And you know that's what's going to happen."

"No dear, you were not the only one thinking it," said Hudson. "But I'm sure Starfleet has already considered that."

Hatherley snorted. "I'm pretty sure they haven't. Bunch of Starbase geniuses forget what it's like out in the field." For whatever reason, he looked at Sherlock, who had to be the least back office brass person John had ever met. "But once the emitters are in, I'll make sure to request a properly reviewed protocol restricting their use to mission critical functions only."

At least this time, Sherlock didn't sarcastically suggest Hatherly write his own protocol that was built for this environment.

John rubbed his eyes and really wished he'd gotten some more sleep. "So, why are we picking up a specialist?"

He was rewarded with a chair bounce from Sherlock. "It doesn't say. However, Mission Specialist Tam Elbrun specializes in first contact."

Donovan and Hudson responded to the name at the same time.

Hudson said, "Oh, that poor dear."

While Donovan said, "That fucking arsehole!"

"So, what's a Tam Elbrun when it's at home?" asked John.

Hunter said, "Oh, I heard about this. He was in some sort of first contact incident wasn't he? Some people died."

Donovan ground out, "Tam Elbrun was responsible for the Ghorusda disaster."

Sherlock snorted. "Elbrun's a first contact specialist. The captain making first contact ignored advice and died. It happens when the advice of experts is ignored." Sherlock grinned at John. "Tam Elbrun only deals with the most exotic of first contacts. The least humanoid." He waggled his eyebrows. "The strangest."

Donovan straightened in her chair. "Look, freak. Forty-seven crew on the Adelphi lost their lives. Including two friends of mine."

Hudson said, "Tam's telepathy is unusually powerful. Unlike most Betazoids, whose abilities develop in puberty, his developed while still in womb. He can't shut out the voices. It can lead to him losing himself in those he contacts."

Sherlock sang out, "First contact," stood up and danced his chair round the room. John could not help, but smile at his antics, while ignoring whatever it was Hatherley muttered under his breath.


	3. Martha Hudson POV

Martha made small talk with Hatherley in Transporter Room Forest – formerly Transporter Room 1 – while they waited for their guests. Just this once. After all she was the XO, not the ship's cruise director, but she thought it was best if she did what she could to help Tam fit in.

"Transporter room's gone a bit too... much for my tastes," said Hatherley, looking at the freshly painted walls.

"Well, the Commander did tell Tregennis and Liu that they could redecorate in any color not grey. This is the understandable result and an accurate indication to any visitors just what kind of ship they're about to visit." She did so hope that she wouldn't have to deal with any unpleasantries with visitors to the ship this time around, but was sure she wouldn't.

Tam was a dear boy, if a bit too sensitive.

As the transporter beam resolved into their new additions, she was even more certain of it. Tam looked tired. He winced away from the engineers next to him. The older Petty Officer had been thinking at him about the Ghorusda disaster.

She left Hatherley to deal with the engineers, while she escorted Tam to the crew deck. She pointed out the walls Tregennis had decorated previously along a forest theme when the entire ship became drunk on polywater. Such an interesting shakedown cruise.  She said, "Your quarters are the farthest from the rest of the crew."

He rubbed his forehead. "All I care about is reaching Tinman."

"Tinman?" said Martha, who did so like to get a jump on the nature of their mission.

"Tinman is the Starfleet codename for what we're seeking to find. It's a living ship. One of an ancient race of space dwelling vessels." Tam stepped into his quarters. "I." He reached for her hand and as he took it, she felt it. 

It was a bit like being a tiny little squid with lovely little tentacles spread out swimming happily along in the ocean, only to come cross a Leviathan holding their massive tentacles tightly in a ball so as not to crush everyone in their vicinity.

Martha immediately wanted to curl into her own little telepathic ball. She winced at the backwash. "Oh, dear." The lights in the room, which had seemed quite pleasant a moment before were now blades stabbing at her temples.

She heard laughter. Heard Tam say, "You need an herbal soother."

An excellent idea.

She went to get a soother. Or perhaps five of them.

She fell asleep to the sound of a distant child's laughter.


	4. Sally Donovan POV

Sally was furious. Fucking Tam Elbrun on her ship. Endangering her crew. Her responsibility. The Commander didn't care. All the freak cared about was reading the mission report. Elbrun hadn't even bothered to show up to the briefing. Him and Hudson. Mind readers. Neither one of them had shown up.

Probably spent the night before sifting through people's secrets. Their thoughts.

Serving under a commanding officer – an Augment that looked like the man who'd made her a freak – was barely tolerable. Barely.

She was just waiting until he got someone killed. Watching. She had her bet on Watson. The way baby Doc followed the freak around. Just a matter of time.

But Tam Elbrun was another story.

He was directly responsible for a massacre. Had gotten people killed. Friends. Good friends. People who'd made it safely with her through the temporal loop on the USS Bozeman only to die because of Elbrun's fuckup.

She wove her way around the engineers, who had been all over the ship for the last few days. Installing replacements for the crew. One more way the future was all fucked up. 

There was no replacement for good instincts.

Elbrun was trouble. He should be warning them about the dangers of dealing with some sort of space dwelling creature that was many times the size of the Bakerstreet and instead he was hiding in his room.

"Freak, what an in-ter-es-ting way to refer to your commanding officer," said a lilting voice. "I suppose, I could expect nothing less from such a freak-ishly old woman. Frightened as a cowardly lion."

Donovan looked over her shoulder. There was no one behind her.

_She could still hear it though. Feel it. Monster's blood in her. Running and pumping in her heart. Freak._

_Donovan shivered. She could hear the other children taunting her. Circling her on the playground. "Freak! Freak! Freak!"_

She gritted her teeth. She would protect her ship.

"That's right, Cowardly Lion," said the lilting voice. It was her mum's voice, dead some twenty years before she got out of the vortex. "Roar!"

That was when she spotted Hatherley. Another Augment.

Thinking he was better than her. Laughing at her.

_She could feel the children circling around her. Chanting. "Your daddy killed my mummy." "Traitor's daughter." "Freak. Freak. Freak."_

She didn't know why she hit him.

She knew exactly why.

An engineer. He fell on the first punch. Augment. She was stronger than the average Human.

She hid in him in a shuttlepod because the voice whispered that no one needed to know.

_Her mum's voice._

_Telling Donovan that they were changing their name and moving, and not to forget that it was all going to be better now. Never mind Donovan had a debt to pay that piled on every time they moved on._

Still, she wasn't a monster. She checked Hatherley wasn't dead. Tied him up. Left him a bowl full of water.

No one had to know.


	5. Sherlock POV

Forty-eight hours on board and Elbrun had finally agreed to go over the report on the anomalous lifeform. Not that Sherlock needed an explanation of the scans, but he was not a first contact expert in that he'd never made first contact with another species at all.

Examined them.

Studied them.

Written monographs that lay unread in archives at Starfleet.

But actually establishing first contact was a different matter entirely.

Since Elbrun was late, Sh'Alaack gave the engineering report, because Hatherley had once again decided to skip a briefing. A not uncommon pattern of behavior after his breakup with John, which was fine. If the cost was a missing chief engineer, it was fine. Less common was Hudson missing a briefing, but she'd been complaining of headaches for the last few days.

Sh'Alaack said, "The team that's been setting up the holo emitters has finished in all the hallways, galley, the shuttle bay, and of course, the bridge and the room they were sitting in.

"Does that mean that Julian could attend briefings?" asked Hunter.

"If it were a member of the bridge staff, which it is not, it could," said Sherlock, who would accede to calling the hologram by a name, but was uninterested in assigning it a gender.

"Julian prefers him," said John, grinning at him. He'd only repeated this every time the hologram came up in conversation. "Helps him build a rapport with patients."

"Which I never intend to be as you are my doctor," said Sherlock, putting as much emphasis as possible on you and my. Sherlock hated repetition, but in this case it was for a good cause.

An excellent cause.

The best of causes.

Smith coughed.

The meeting was interrupted by their guest of honor. Tam Elbrun arrived carrying a tray covered in the most foul smelling sliced fruit it had ever been Sherlock's displeasure to smell. It drowned out the smell of everything else. Even the memory of other scents.  Even John's scent was obscured by the odor.

"What is that… umm… stuff?" asked Smith.

"Huh," said John. "Not sure I've ever heard of someone bringing durian to a briefing." He shrugged and actually put a slice of the stuff in his mouth. Because John would put anything in his mouth when presented with it. Unfortunately this derailed Sherlock's thoughts to other things being placed in John's warm moist mouth.

Elbrun noticed. How could she not, given the purported power of her telepathy. She said, "It's naughty," which made Sherlock flush.

John grinned. "Tastes better than it smells."

Donovan stood up. "What are you trying to do? Poison us? I ought to…" Her hands clenched into fists. Fortunately, she chose to leave the room. They'd do better without her.

Sh'Alaack's antennae moved as far away from the tray as possible.

Sherlock hoped the tray wasn't a sign of Elbrun's capabilities as a first contact specialist. However, he had no intention of enduring more of the smell. He picked up the tray, put it in the replicator, and consigned the fruit back into energy. The smell remained. "Computer, run a sonic filtration cycle on the air in the ready room."

"And the bridge," said Smith. "Please."

"Yes, please," said Hunter. "Do not let that smell remain."

There was whir of air. "Oh, well," said Elbrun. "So much for my little gift." She brought up the report – finally. "Starfleet sent a long range probe outside of Federation space to monitor the death of a red giant, Beta Stromgren, when they identified a lifeform that has taken up close orbit."

"Yes, yes," said Sherlock impatiently. He could finally begin to smell John's scent again. The others – of less interest. Fainter than that – almost like the memory of a scent – the scent of an alpha. Familiar. Unfamiliar. The shadow of familiarity.

Sh'Alaack said, "Ms. Elbrun," in a surprised tone, "you're part Human Augment."

Elbrun blinked Betazoid black eyes at them. "No reason, you should. My Betazoid genetics are the ones that get the most attention." She met Sherlock's gaze. "Part Betazoid. Lethean. Ulian. In a list like that, Human DNA comes in last."

"Wow," said Smith. "No wonder you're a first contact specialist."

Sherlock was more interested in just how such a cross could occur. Certainly not without considerable genetic assistance. And a laboratory. This had certain implications given that Elbrun was an Augment.

But then, Sherlock wasn't the only one with a reason to leave home.

"No, you're not," said Elbrun, her eyes never leaving Sherlock's. "Starfleet has codenamed this life form Tinman, like in the children's book about the little girl who leaves Kansas for a magical realm." Her eyes were very black.

 _From the basement, Sherlock could hear an animal's howl_.

"Which must make your chief of security the Cowardly Lion. Of course, the commander is the clever Scarecrow." She smoothed her hands on the table, and Sherlock's mind pulled up an image of blue and white gingham, as if his memory palace would ever contain such a cloth. "I'll be Dorothy." She finally looked away, flicking her gaze over John. "And there's Toto."

"Ta," said John. "In the book, Toto belonged to Dorothy, but," he tapped his lips with his right index finger, "takes more than a slice of smelly fruit to win me over."

Sherlock lifted his chin, glad that he and John would be having dinner that evening. That John would be safe for an evening at least from the attentions of another alpha.

"Tinman's more than just a space dwelling lifeform," said Elbrun, shifting topics again.

_Howling as an east wind blew a storm closer to rattle the very foundations._

"Starfleet believes it's a ship capable of traveling between galaxies. Think of all the adventures a clever person could have on a ship like that."

John laughed. "Bet it doesn't have a forest in the crew deck though."

Elbrun looked at John with narrowed eyes. Her gaze flicked between the two of them. The air filtration whirred.

_Suddenly cold. Ice. Snow. A growl. Redbeard?_

"No, I'm sure it does not," said Elbrun. She leaned forward. "As you know, Beta Stromgren is twenty-six parsecs outside of Federation space, in space claimed by the Romulan Star Empire. It's critical, absolutely critical that the Bakerstreet reach Tinman first."

Sherlock's heart pounded. He felt the need to go. The need to move.

Run.

Play.

He shook his head. Need was an emotion. A chemical reaction to mental stimuli. His body was simply transport. "We'll go warp six and set the long range scanners searching for warbirds."

Elbrun appeared about to protest, but closed her mouth. "I'll go check in on Hudson." She smiled and there was a dimple on her cheek. "Betazoid business."

It was only after she left that John ordered some tomato juice from the replicator. "That stuff was foul. Never let me eat anything like that ever again." The liquid stained his thin lips red.

Sherlock would be more than happy to never associate that scent with John ever again.

_From the depths of himself, Redbeard whined as if wounded._


	6. Julian POV

Julian stood in the doorway of sickbay. Violet said, "Try it." He put one foot outside of the door. That foot did not disappear. It remained solid. As solid as holographic light could be.

Violet clapped. "Huzzah, for the walker!"

"What does that even mean?" Julian smiled. "I could always walk."

"In two rooms on the whole ship. Now," she made a grand gesture, "you have the run of the ship."

"Not exactly," he felt it necessary to point out. "They're done setting up the holo emitters. I can go to most of the public spaces on the ship and some limited access to crew quarters."

"Heh, yeah," Violet laughed weakly. "Vi thinks that'll be abused for porn. Imagine."

Julian used the algorithm for an "I am listening smile." His usual response when Violet mentioned that sort of thing. "Imagine." He repeated back to her as per his protocols.

"It speaks," said a humanoid woman. Since Julian wasn't standing in the sickbay, he couldn't scan her vitals and determine her species other than based on appearance. "It speaks, but it has no thoughts." She came closer and tapped his forehead. "It's not a Ferengi, or," she giggled, "not a Breeeeeeen trying to keep the future songs out in its tin can. They think they're so clever, but they're not. If they were…" she giggled, "but that would be telling."

Julian could perform his function as a doctor better if he could respond to her species based on the appropriate bedside manner algorithm.

"He," emphasized Violet, "is a hologram."

"I do prefer the masculine personal pronoun," said Julian, who wasn't capable of being offended if the woman chose not to use it. He accessed ship's memory. The humanoid did not match any of the visitors on the ship. Betazoid coloring to her eyes. Perhaps Tam Elbrun had recently undergone gender reassignment and the records had not caught up. A possible solution.

It would be better if he could knew. Anyone on the ship had the potential to become a patient. "Would you like a tour of sickbay?"

"We just got you out of sickbay," protested Violet.

The humanoid swayed. "He." She tilted her head. "Does it fuck?" She looked down at where the programmers had not added a penis. There was a limerick about it commenting his code by the very bitter lead engineer, whose appearance had been used for the first iteration of the program.

Violet gasped. "What are you talking about?"

"You want to fuck it." The woman smiled. She circled around Violet. "Dirt climbing the walls. Making something made of bright light dirty. So, dirty. Such dirty thoughts."

"I," Violet rubbed her forehead, indicative of a headache.

"Elbrun, stop!" shouted Donovan walking briskly down the hall. "Don't think I don't see you. Crawling around in our minds! Making us all freaks!" She tackled the woman and they both went down.

Julian did not have a counselor sub-routine. He couldn't give Donovan therapy. He went for a sedative, while Violet called security for the difficult task of restraining their superior officer.

As Washington and Cho restrained a groggy Donovan, Elbrun said, "Poor Cowardly Lion." She didn't look like she was phased at all by what had happened. Even her clothes didn't look wrinkled. She grinned at him. "Maybe you should be the Tinman."

"I think I'll be Julian," because really being Julian was enough for any hologram.

"Should we take her to the brig?" asked Cho, doubtfully.

"Take her to sickbay," said Julian. "I'll need to put her in quarantine." He might not have a counselor algorithm, but he was programmed to recognize aberrant behavior. "She could be infected." Both Cho and Washington looked simultaneously relieved and disturbed at the idea. "I'll give you both a work up too." He told Violet, "Sorry we can't take that walk."

She shrugged. "Maybe next time." She left as he put a restraint field over Donovan and began a full diagnostic.


	7. John POV

John adjusted the bag of ingredients that he'd picked up from Stonn, who maintained a small garden of Vulcan vegetables in hydroponics as a hobby. This week for dinner, John wanted to make pelau chicken from that cookbook about the African diaspora that Lucy had lent him. But instead of pigeon peas, he was substituting Vulcan naya beans.

Dinner with Sherlock. Maybe he'd put on a horror movie after to make him complain. A good excuse to lean in. But this time, straight to bed afterwards.

He always told himself that before dinner.

After dinner was a different reality.

John stepped around an engineer fiddling with a holo emitter. She stood up. Freed her bright red hair from its pony tail. "Check this out. Computer, Bengal tiger." A Bengal tiger wavered to life and roared.

"A lot of call for Bengal tigers to help during emergencies?" laughed John. The engineer, an alpha – why did he think that she was an alpha – it wasn't scent it was – he – he thought – must be scent – she was very pretty. Like that alpha he'd had a crush on as a boy. Penny? Paula? Bright green eyes. Green as a forest. Scent that made his mouth water.

"You'd be surprised." She wrinkled her nose at him. "It's part of the startup protocol. Pet it."

 The sack slid to the floor. He hardly noticed the tomatoes rolling across the smooth surface.

The fur was surprisingly soft. Mind, John was certain an actual Bengal tiger wouldn't have purred and rubbed its massive body against his hip and torso.

"Pleasure responses come from the left side of the amygdala. You have such lovely ones." Fluted high voice. High above his head.  "Very responsive." The engineer stroked his hair. "I see why he likes to keep you as his pet. I'd let him take you with us if he wanted. You were nice to me." Her forehead wrinkled. "Although, you haven't been yet. I can't decide. Are you Hans or are you Olaf?"

"Hmmm…" He kept rubbing both hands in the tiger's fur.

She hummed a melody. When he recognized it, he couldn't help but join in the chorus. Soon they both singing in the hallway. He shook his head afterwards. "Been years since I watched _Frozen_. Went through a few months watching it over and over as a child. Even tried to get mum and dad to put on a production."

"I heard it for the first time a few months ago," she said softly. Her hand reached out to stroke the back of his hand that was stroking the tiger. Delicate touch. Soft. A rush of pleasure. "It's all about siblings. One of them has powers and the other wants nothing more than to play with her until a lover tries to get in the way."

"Yeah," he said slowly. Shivering. Unsure about why it was snowing inside the ship.

"But," she tisked her tongue. "You've been such a naughty boy. Up to such naughty things with images of poor Sherlock's body on the holodeck. Pet deserves his smacks on the rump, he does."

"Wha…" The fur felt amazing. Soft. Warm. He couldn't understand how the tiger could be so warm when everything around them was so cold.

"Oh, that's just in your head. People keep so many things there. So easy to put things in." The pretty engineer laughed. She took one of his hands. "Tiger off.  Sas-a-Shar protocol." The tiger went away.

His hands clenched at the loss of soft. Of warmth. The pretty engineer – luscious scent – squeezed his hand. "Come boy. I'll take you for a walk and put your food out. I've decided it's time to make a snowman."

He sighed in pleasure and went where she pulled him.


	8. Sherlock POV

Elbrun told Sherlock for perhaps the infinite time, "You can't let them get to Tinman."

Two Romulan D'deridex class warbirds had been spotted on the long range scanners heading for the Beta Stromgren system. The scanners had also spotted a Breen warship from a separate trajectory.

Sherlock looked around for Hudson, but she was sitting quietly at her station. He thought vaguely that this wasn't like her.

"Don't think about her." Elbrun said. "Commander, we have to go faster. Don't you want to get there first?"

Smith said, "Commander, warp seven is barely sustainable." Which was irritating. Hatherley should show up to briefings so Sherlock could tell him to modify the engines to improve efficiency.

"Don't think about this silly little ship," said Elbrun. "Think of the adventures a clever person could have on a ship like Tinman."

Sherlock hated repeating himself. "I said, warp seven. You're the first contact expert. Be an expert and decide how we'll establish contact. First is not always best."

The ship's computer reminded Sherlock that he had an excuse to escape. "Commander Holmes, your dinner with Mr. Watson is in five minutes."

Tinman could wait.

John had been hinting about dinner for the last several days.

Sherlock left Elbrun to bother Hudson.

On the crew deck, there was a cloth sack in the hallway. Sherlock bent to pick it up and heard a familiar yip.

Redbeard, the Vulcan sehlat he'd owned as a boy, stood over the sack. But Redbeard had died years ago.

When?

He didn't…. He couldn't remember.

Didn't even really remember when he'd had the sehlat. He just knew he had.

He was fairly certain he had.

_It was behind the locked door. Cold. So cold. Fingers at his neck. Stabbing pain. Cold._

He needed to find John. He went to John's door, but there was no answer. He tapped his com. "Computer. Where is Doctor Watson?"

"Mr. Watson is presently in the ship's galley."

Sherlock ran down the hall. Waited impatiently for the lift. Was impatient on the lift. Was impatient out of the lift and running.

_Freezing winds howling. A roar. An animal in pain._

In the galley, John was sitting with a red headed woman. A stranger. An alpha. Had to be an alpha. Scents rising from the food scattered in dishes around the room. Alpha. Long red hair. Beautiful face. Vaguely familiar. She was stroking John's hair and he was… rubbing his head into her hand.

Sherlock stood in the door until Tregennis attempted to get by him saying, "Can I get by… oh… yeah, I uh… actually not hungry. Very important... bye now."

Tregennis left.

Sherlock tried to go to his memory palace, but Redbeard wouldn't let him. Growled. Rejected him too. Sherlock walked away. He walked and walked. Round and around his ship until he came to the shuttle bay.

_Cold._

John had found someone for his next relationship. They would couple. Limbs tangling. No place for Sherlock.

_Alone._

_Cold._

_Snap._

_Howling._

_Blood. A longed for voice and so much blood._

He walked.

There was a humanoid woman by the airlocks. Short blond hair. Scent… omega? He could hardly breathe. Blue eyes. Engineering uniform. One of the engineers. She was staring at the airlock. She reached out hesitantly for a control.

Sherlock cleared his throat.

She started. Eyes wide. "Sorry. I didn't. I wasn't."

"We're going for a walk." Sherlock didn't wish to be alone and this woman clearly shouldn't be alone. Not looking at an airlock and feeling so cold.

_Fingers reaching._

He took her hand. They walked around his ship. He showed her Transporter Room Cloud and Transporter Room Forest.

He showed her the crew deck covered in forest. Flowers were blooming on the floor. Lovely. He took her through engineering to see the warp drive. He told her how irritating it was that Hatherley didn't want to do any upgrades to the systems if they were outside of recommended Starfleet parameters. She agreed that this was ridiculous! He told her about visiting three days into the past once. She thought that was funny. "There were two of you in the universe. How wonderful. And I missed it. Mummy had me in cold storage until very recently. But I'm not going to miss things anymore. We'll have such fun." She squeezed his hand. "You're just as sweet as he said you'd be." She kissed his cheek. "Sweeter."

He took her to his favorite spot. The observation bubble at the bottom of the disk. But when he sat down, he was alone. There was no woman. No scent that there had been anyone with him. No sign at all.


	9. John POV

John stumbled groggily into his quarters. Unsure of how he'd gotten there. There's been a tiger. A woman. A hologram maybe. They'd… His com chirped. Hudson said, "John, sorry to interrupt dinner with the Commander, but there's a distress signal from a freighter, the East Wind."

John looked around his room. The Commander wasn't there. Commander? Sherlock? His heart thumped. It was dinner night and he'd wandered off. There'd been a woman. Had there?

A little girl's voice pipped over the com. "Hello, hello. I'm all alone. Everyone is asleep. It's just me. I need help."

He'd just abandoned his date with Sherlock. He'd just left him. For an evening with some woman.

_He was what they'd always said omegas were. A slag. A slut. He was… horrible. Voices whispering about him. Pointing at him. Being dragged home by his dad after he'd been caught with Tadpole in the prop room. Magdalene's. Other students. Slag. Slut. Tramp. Trash. Omega._

He shook his head.

There was a little girl in danger.

John had to get away.

_Slut. Slag. Cock whore. Omega. Can't keep his legs together._

Nothing for it but to volunteer to get on a shuttlepod and help out. Wasn't as if Julian could go.

Bit of a blur that.

One moment he was standing in his room and the next John was on the 221C headed out into space.

John busied himself calling up any information on file about the East Wind. There wasn't much. It was some form of transport, which would have meant something to Smith or Hatherley.

"So, um, is it typical for the life support to ummm… cut out on this type of freighter?" He asked Hatherley, who was there for some reason.

"Not really. They're a solid design," said Hatherley looking steadily at the controls. He said, "So, how is it going with you and Commander Holmes?"

John flushed. All his embarrassment about being manipulated by that woman flooding in. "Fine, but we're just friends."

The girl's voice, high and piercing, shrieked, "Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!"

The power cut out.

The only thing holding John in his seat was the seat belt.

There was no more laughter, but somewhat more worryingly, Hatherley was floating in the air. Tied up. Unconscious. Next to a holo emitter, which made no sense at all.

And for the encore, the 221C was dead in space.


	10. Julian POV

Julian examined Donovan's brain scans. There was considerable synaptic activity throughout her brain, but the activity in her right amygdala – responsible for fear responses to negative memories – was far outside of norm while at rest. 

Hudson had come in earlier complaining of headaches. Same synaptic pattern. There were also some small patches of cellular damage indicating extreme psychic pressure.

Elbrun appeared next to him.

Sickbay was where he'd been designed to be. Scanning her was like breathing for a life form. She was a hologram, just like he was.

She said, "Are you going to spoil my fun?"

"It seems likely," he said.

He looked at her. "You're not Elbrun. Who are you?"

She pirouetted on one foot. "Call me Euros." She stopped spinning with a tap of her heels together. "I'm the tornado that carries the house to the magical land of Oz." She clicked her feet again. "You can be the Wicked Witch of the East and I'll crush you with my house."  

"I think I'll stick to Julian." He paused. Algorithms processing patterns. His diagnostics were designed to find patterns. "I've said that already today."

"So, you have." Euros frowned looking up and to the right. "Oh, big brother. Mummy sent you to put me back in the box, but it won't be so easy to put me back this time." She disappeared.

Leaving Julian to some very worrying brain scans.

Particularly when Stonn stumbled with very un-Vulcan like tears streaming down his face. "My children. I did what biology and obligation to the continuation of my species dictated. Then when the opportunity came, I followed my inclination to explore the stars and yet… Sestre won't know me. Doctor. I find I'm experiencing. This is…"

Julian tried to contact the bridge, but only got static. He'd have left sickbay, he could do that now, but Stonn was only the first of a steady stream of crew showing the effects of psychic interference.

"I take it that's the house landing on me," said Julian, who couldn't reach John either. Fortunately, he couldn't get tired. This was an emergency. He was an emergency hologram.

He set to work.


	11. Sherlock POV

Sherlock tried not to think about John. What he must be doing with that woman. Legs tangling. Lips. Skin. Flesh parting. Moving.

There was a mission and as Elbrun would not stop telling him that they needed to reach Tinman first.

A ship. What adventures a curious mind could have on a ship like that. Where had he heard that before?

"Vi," said Hunter, "Why have we sped up?"

"I didn't," Smith stared at her own hands. "I didn't. The change came from engineering." She tapped a control. "Engineering, what's going on?"

"My apologies, but I cannot talk now," said Sh'Alaack. "Engineering has become a jungle and there's a large stripped feline prowling next to the warp drive."

"Also, a lion and a bear," shouted Tregennis. "It's cucking crazy down here. We've tried to cut the emitters three times, and it's always an illusion."

Elbrun put her hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Her touch was so cold that it burned. "Don't think about them. You need to be first. You were sweet to me, Yellowbeard. I can be the Ice Queen and the east wind. I can be both."

Sherlock tried to move.

_Dread pooled cold and frozen in his fingers. Redbeard howled over the top of the rail above him._

"What a silly memory for Myrcoft to have built everything on top of. Victor injured him you know. He was jealous." Elbrun's lips curled. "That's why you had to put him down."

"Who are you?" She was not Elbrun.

She smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Euros. Mummy likes such clever names. But little brother, it's more than transport." She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. "It's flesh." She flashed him a smile. "Sometimes."

_It was snowing. Redbeard howled in the snow._

Julian pushed his way through a snow drift. He hypoed Sherlock's shoulder, pushed his way to the rest of the crew, and then tapped something on the floor. He and the snow flickered from view.

Over the com, Julian said, "I've given you all a neural inhibitor. It should protect you from psychic influence. Try not to need any additional medical assistance, because I can't make house calls now that I've turned off the emitters up there. I'll see what I can do about the rest of the ship."

Hunter said, "Commander, we've arrived at Beta Stromgren, but we're not the only ones here." She brought up a display. Tinman, a vast creature, took up most of the monitor. Around it, tiny in comparison to Tinman's mass, two Romulan warbirds were battling a Breen warship.

The Breen warship sent a volley of missiles, not at the Romulans, but at Tinman.

Hunter said, "There's an energy spike from Tinman. And… sir," she turned around, "221C is dead in space orbiting the star. The star is beginning the process of going supernova."

Euros voice came over the com system. "Which will it be… Mycroft or your pet. Tinman is going to shoot one of them."

Sherlock was freezing.

Sherlock said to no one in particular. "You were never on the Bakerstreet."

The Breen ship sliced one of the Romulan ships in half with a massive energy burst, but came under heavy fire from the second ship.

"Count of ten to decide. Tick tock. Tick tock, little brother. That red giant isn't going to wait forever to blow up."

Sherlock said the only reasonable response, "Take me to your ship. I think it's time we met in person."

What came next was like being fragmented into his component parts. Like being torn apart by tiny glowing things that sparkled around him while Euros laughed.


	12. John POV

John shivered, even wrapped up on the thermal blanket. What he was about to do was an enormously bad idea. Tremendous. But there was only a few hours' worth of air in the shuttlepod. Hypothermia was less of a problem.

Except he couldn't stop shaking. He pulled off the panel over the tetryon plasma matrix in the rear compartment. He had steady hands.

Except when he was so blasted cold.

He carefully pulled the chip connecting the matrix to the multiflux regulator.  He had no desire to be irradiated with gamma radiation. Hatherley moaned from his seat, which was fine. While the damned engineer was knocked out, the not yet a surgeon was doing surgery on a ship. It was all fine. John moved to pick up the secondary chip, when he realized that he wasn't in a shuttlepod at all.

He was in icy valley. Howling wind pushed at him from down the slopes of mountain peaks. There were bodies all around him. Children.

A massive Vulcan sehlat growled at him. Rabid and red eyed.

A little girl with one blue eye and one brown was huddled against a stone wall. "Please, help. I'm all alone."

He picked up the tusk of some sort of animal lying on the ground. "I'm here." He moved between her and the sehlat. Because no kid was going to die on his watch.


	13. Sherlock POV

Sherlock appeared in a small dim organic looking chamber. Yellow lights pulsed through red veins on the walls.

There was a girl, of about seven sitting in a cup like chair twice again her size. She resembled the various woman he'd seen. Elbrun. The engineer. The red head.

Except she had one green eye and the other was blue. She said, "They're what I think I'll look like when I get bigger," she said. She giggled. "My little brother is bigger than I am."

This made no sense. Mummy had sworn off concocting further iterations of the genome.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. The answer was all around him. "Mummy froze you in a cryo chamber."

"Ding. Ding. Ding," said Euros. She spread her arms. "Gomtuu came into our space. Wounded. Alone. After their crew died long ago. When Mummy found out Gomtuu had had a telepathic crew, they unfroze me. Popped me in." Her smile faded. "As if I was just going to turn Gomtuu over to them." She patted the arm of her chair. "I want you to have adventures with me. We could even pick up your pet. But I'm much nicer than he is." She widened her eyes. "He's been fucking versions of you on the holodeck. Naughty pet deserves the spanking he's getting." She tilted her head. "Or maybe you wanted to do it. You're grown up while I stayed a child."

"Euros." Sherlock didn't remember the name. So much locked behind the door. "What happened? I don’t remember any of it. I don't remember you."

"I pushed too hard," she said sadly. "But you were so mad at me. You were going to choose Victor, and I couldn't let that happen." She rocked in her seat. "I couldn't let him win. You don't know how mean he was. Nasty on the inside. And it was such a fun adventure. Before it went bad."

The lights in the chamber flashed. She groaned. "Big brother, always trying to ruin my fun."

A Breen in full armor stood in the entry way to the chamber holding a disruptor. Mycroft's said, "Enough Euros. Haven't you hurt Sherlock enough? Come back with me and I'll see if Mummy will let you stay out of the cryo chamber this time. Give you a place to grow up."

"Please, I can't read your mind in that tin can, but I know what you're thinking. And I'm not the one who put that sehlat in Sherlock's head!" Euros stood up and raised her hand. She gasped and looked up. "No! Gomtuu, I'm not done! Let me finish!"

The same horrible swarm of tiny lights enveloped Sherlock.

He fell to the floor on the bridge of the Bakerstreet, as Tinman, Gomtuu, emitted a wave of energy that caught the Bakerstreet up in its blast. The ship tumbled out of the Beta Stromgren system. Past the Breen and the Romulan ship, whose battle was paused as the ships were flung apart by the force of the energy tidal wave. As Beta Stromgren rapidly expanded in a massive explosion.

"John!" said Sherlock. "Where's the 221C?"

Smith said, "Sir, we're right next to it. We were both thrown in the same direction. Shall I pull it in with a tractor beam?"

His glare was his answer.

When he made it down to the shuttle bay, they were pulling John and Hatherley out of the shuttlepod, teeth chattering. "Hey," said John, his lashes pale with ice. "Wha..wha..wha..hat..ttt…ttt… di…iii…d I miss?"

Sherlock swept John up in an embrace because John was cold, and Sherlock was warm. That was the only reason.


	14. John POV

Julian insisted on doing brain scans of the entire crew, which wasn't wrong.

John was just glad that his scan didn't show any permanent damage. Apparently, he'd dosed himself with a psychic enhancer laced in the durian, which was what he got for eating foul fruit. But beyond the level of brain damage that might come from a Friday night bender, he wasn't bad off.

Hudson's scan showed some slight neural scarring, but she said. "I've had worse, mostly I dosed myself on soothers. But poor Elbrun."

It was hard to say who was worse off. The visiting engineers had been found dead in the left nacelle. They'd worked themselves to death. Elbrun was alive, if in a catatonic state.  Hudson's theory was that Euros, whoever that was, had been using him as a psychic booster for her signal on board the Bakerstreet.

Then there was Hatherley, who had a mild concussion. He'd recommended that Starfleet discontinue the whole holo emitter idea, only to find that the engineers had gone AWOL and there were no orders to install holo emitters.

Still, at Hunter's suggestion, they kept them, but locked down so only Julian could be displayed through them.

Donovan had more significant damage to her amygdala. Sherlock said she'd offered to quit her commission, but there was whole category in Starfleet's reports for damage done while under mind control. She was awfully quiet though.

Certainly more quiet than Sherlock, who protested as he came in to be tested. "There won't be anything. My healing Augmentation is very high."

"Yeah, I know," said John. "But we should still check you out."

Sherlock grumbled some more, but lay down.

John looked and looked again. "Julian, am I reading this right?"

"What is it?" said Sherlock, stroking his thumb over the back of John's hand.

"I see the same thing," said Julian. "Commander, there are signs of a much older trauma. It's the same morphology that I'm seeing in everyone else, but to a far greater degree. There's a dead space that you've rerouted neural activity around. The only thing that could have caused this level of damage and in this way would have been a serious coma. Before the age of ten, while you were still developing neural transmitters."

"I…" Sherlock looked away. "I don't remember." His lashes were stark against his pale cheeks. His dark curls slightly flat. "I've never… there are entire periods in my early childhood I don't remember. Nothing before the age of six. Maybe seven. There's a pet sehlat." He glanced up and to the right. "It would seem my brother gave him to me. And I believe that I have a sister with considerable psychic abilities, who orchestrated all that in order to run away with me. I think…" he kept looking to the right as if something was there, his brain scans showed he was reacting to something in the area of his amygdala where pain responses were stored. "Something may have happened."

Julian said, "The damaged area creates a form of temporal gap between the social and emotional centers in your brain. There's also increased neuro circuitry rich in dopamine. All of which can combine to create a heightened sense of the reward from risky behavior. Commander,"

"Emergency Hologram off," said John steadily. Firmly. This was not going to happen. Not to Sherlock.  "On my authority as chief medical officer on this ship," as the only medical officer, "computer purge the last hour of the emergency hologram's memory and all records of Commander Holmes' brain scan."

"Processing. Complete," said the computer.

"John?" asked Sherlock. He was as pale as John had ever seen him. His black hair stark against his skin.

"I'm sure that big brilliant brain of yours knows that with a brain scan like that, he was about to relieve you of duty, and once you'd lost command, you'd never have gotten it back. You're a good commander and a good friend. My best friend. And I'm not going to let something that happened to you when you were a kid ruin your life." Not going to happen. Never.  John squeezed Sherlock's shoulder. "You're here and you're here to stay."

Sherlock looked up at him eyes wide and green in the bright light. "It would seem I am." He reached up and placed his hand over John's.


	15. Sherlock POV

Sherlock accessed the holodeck history. There was nothing to see. John always deleted the record when running programs.

Sherlock went deeper to the record of actions that John took when initiating a program. He hadn't thought to delete them. Most wouldn't.

The pattern that emerged couldn't have been more obvious. He wondered if the same pattern had existed back at the Academy. It was far too late to know. What he did know was that John uploaded a wide variety of programs, that all contained the same basic programmatic plug-in that would allow for sexual activity and modifications from his personal data store. The names of the personal uploads were evocative, such as "Wanton Concubine Royally Rogered at Court", "Wicked Sugar Baby Spanked and Put to Bed Wet", or "Naughty Student Gets Knotted". While others such as "Bridge Training Simulation" or "Sickbay Simulation", were mostly evocative given the external data requests that John made.

Sherlock's image was always downloaded.

Sherlock was in John's files within moments. He breathed in sharply at the detail of John's interests.

There was no denying that John, who made him butter chicken and sat watching old vids with him, was having varied forms of intercourse with a simulacrum of Sherlock on at least a weekly basis. Sometimes with greater frequency.

Sherlock shifted in his chair.

Arousal wasn't for evolved beings. He reminded himself that it was no longer necessary for the preservation of the species.

Still, the idea lingered that nothing could be simpler than creating a sort of holographic blind within the holographic unit where he could watch John engage in coitus with himself. He could learn so much about John. There was a risk of discovery, but the rewards would be so much greater. He could learn so much about his best friend.

It wouldn't answer the question of his fractured memories. Or force Mycroft to respond to his messages.

It would betray his best friend's trust.

But the idea lingered like a half forgotten scent from long ago that even when he forgot everything else, remained.

**Author's Note:**

> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Tin_Man_(episode)  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Beta_Stromgren  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Chandran  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Tam_Elbrun
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amygdala  
> https://io9.gizmodo.com/the-neuroscience-of-why-teenagers-behave-the-way-they-d-1474948786  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Vulcan%27s_Forge  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yesteryear_(Star_Trek:_The_Animated_Series)  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/USS_Bozeman  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Tetryon_plasma  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Ullian  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Lethean  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/D%27deridex_class


End file.
